
Brief Summary:
In this highly engaging talk, Professor Paula Fredriksen explores the challenging question, "When does Christianity actually begin?" She unpacks four key historical and theological issues, drawing on David Flusser's influential work as well as her own insights. Fredriksen highlights how early Christianity didn't simply emerge overnight but slowly grew out of Jewish traditions, only gradually taking on a distinct identity over several centuries. She emphasizes that, "Christianity begins by accident," as a byproduct of reinterpreting Jesus within existing Jewish expectations—leaving us to wonder if there ever was a clean break at all.
Professor Fredriksen begins her lecture addressing a Jerusalem audience, reflecting on her own experiences presenting in similar settings before. She recalls a past encounter with a deeply knowledgeable participant who challenged her with Greek texts, emphasizing the scholarly depth and expectation in such an environment. She explains why the question, "When does Christianity begin?" is so complex, especially in comparison to biological or scientific beginnings.
"We can determine what we mean by the beginning of something if we're talking about something biological scientific... with more clarity than we can with something cultural."
She introduces the article by David Flusser, "The Jewish-Christian Schism, Part One," as a cornerstone for her discussion. Flusser's approach presupposes that Christianity starts as a kind of Jewishness but becomes "something quite different and other." Fredriksen points out that questions of origins are really questions of identity, both for individuals and for entire communities.
"Questions of origins with cultural phenomenon usually have to do with questions of identity."
She wonders how much Flusser's own sense of Jewish identity colored his interpretation and emphasizes his point that the new Christology (beliefs about Christ's divine status) emerged somewhere between the death of Jesus and Paul's conversion—a window of just about three years.
Instead of directly asking when Christianity begins, Fredriksen suggests focusing on four historical issues that Flusser raises:
"What does he mean by the meta-historical Christological cosmic drama? It's about the events around the Parousia, the Second Coming of Christ… overcoming evil, resurrection of the Dead, that usual package of hopes we associate with apocalyptic eschatology."
By examining these four intertwined themes, she hopes to gain a clearer picture of what really sets early Christianity apart from its Jewish matrix—or whether it does at all.
Fredriksen explores Flusser's bold assertion that Jesus had a unique sense of his own divine sonship, which served as the kernel for Christianity's later developments. She notes that all our information about Jesus comes much later, from the Gospels (written 40-70 years after Jesus's death and in Greek), making it difficult to access what Jesus really thought.
"Flusser seems to know a lot about Jesus's own sense of self... his remarks are not footnoted... he's thinking with the Synoptic Gospels."
She challenges the idea that Jesus intended to start a new religion. According to Flusser, what set Christianity on a new path was not Jesus's intention but the actions of his followers:
"Christianity begins by accident through this mythologized reinterpretation of Jesus's own sense of self… This was the hour of the birth of Christology… the minority which, without desiring it, caused Christianity to become a new religion."
Fredriksen emphasizes how much later Christian "mythology" about Jesus's return, resurrection, and cosmic drama shaped this new path. She explains that these themes developed increasingly in a "secondary" or even "tertiary" layer—moving beyond what Jesus himself might have expected.
When confronting the claim that Christianity differed from Judaism on the basis of monotheism, Fredriksen complicates the picture:
"There is no such thing as monotheism in antiquity… Some of those people are pagans, some of those people are Jews... let's talk in terms of mega-theism—my God is the biggest God—rather than monotheism."
She illustrates how, in the ancient world (including in Hebrew scriptures), the existence of many gods was assumed—what mattered was which God was most powerful. Even the Psalms speak of other gods, just as the stories of Moses tell of battles with Egypt's gods. In this environment, to be Jewish was to insist that the God of Israel was the greatest, not necessarily the only one.
This helps explain how early Christians and Jews saw the "oneness" of God through different lenses, but not always as starkly opposed as later traditions might suggest.
Moving to the social world of the first centuries, Fredriksen discusses the "God-fearers"—non-Jews who voluntarily associated with synagogues:
"God-fearers accepted certain basic Jewish obligations… the so-called Noahide precepts against idolatry, the shedding of blood, and grave sexual sins."
She contests Flusser's idea that all "God-fearers" were on a path towards Christianity. Instead, she distinguishes between pagans warmly welcomed in synagogues (even those with public roles in Roman religious life) and the tougher demands placed on those who joined the Christ movement:
"If you were a pagan who is a member of the Christ movement, Paul said you could not sacrifice to your native gods anymore... It's harder to be a Christ-following, synagogue-going pagan than it is to be a non-Christ-following, synagogue-going pagan."
Fredriksen points out the radical innovation in Paul's demands: his ex-pagan followers had to stop all idol worship—something not even generally required by synagogues of the time. Paul, then, is seen as a "radical Judaizer"—making Jewish-style demands of Gentile followers, which shocked some audiences.
"Paul himself is suggesting Jewish behaviors to his non-Jewish listeners… he tells his ex-pagan pagans that they should fulfill the law…"
In discussing the struggle for orthodoxy, Fredriksen notes that, contrary to Flusser, the key disputes among early Christians weren't always about Christ's status, but about the very identity of God:
"It's a crisis, not of Christology… but of theology, specifically in the second century—God has a Jewish identity crisis."
She shows that in the second century, new thinkers like Valentinus, Justin Martyr, and Marcion gradually recast God as an abstract, ethnically neutral being—the "God of philosophy"—quite different from the very Jewish God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that Paul spoke about.
Fredriksen questions Flusser's notion that the Jerusalem church ever held real authority:
"There was never a point at which the Jerusalem community had any authority, or Paul wouldn't be yelling at so many other Christ-following apostles to gentiles as he does in his own letters."
Instead, diversity and argument flourished—a very Jewish way of working out differences!
During the question-and-answer section, audience members press Fredriksen on whether Jesus or Paul intended to start a new religion. She emphasizes that both operated within an intense expectation of God's immediate action—a coming resurrection within their own lifetimes—so neither was planning to create an enduring new community or institution.
"I don't think anybody's thinking of founding a different institution because they're expecting the resurrection of the dead and the cosmic resolution to the problem of evil within their own lifetimes."
Another participant notes the endless nature of messianic hope in Judaism and how many different "messianic" figures have emerged, with Fredriksen agreeing:
"I'm certainly not saying that Christianity and Judaism aren't two different things now, but… there are many different varieties..."
A further question explores Paul's status as a "Judaizer", and how he only dispensed with certain Jewish customs for Gentiles (like Sabbath, kosher, and circumcision) while upholding core ethical monotheism. She affirms this, suggesting Paul wanted Gentiles to become "Jew-ish"—not full Jews, perhaps, but deeply shaped by Jewish values.
"They're not becoming Jews, but they're becoming… Jew-ish… eschatological Gentiles now."
As the discussion wraps up, Fredriksen and others debate the main question:
"A more crucial question than when it begins is: did it ever separate?"
She argues that the real watershed moments—in the sense of political and social power—come only centuries later, under Constantine, when Christianity becomes intertwined with empire. She suggests that the real parting of ways might not have happened until much later than most people think:
"There's an argument that it's not until the Emperor clarifies the issue of power sometime in the fourth century that you have a clear distinction between these movements..."
She closes with a wry observation about present-day politics and the persistent ambiguity of religious identity:
"Summerfest will have to spend a sleepless night not knowing exactly what happened… perhaps we'll live with what we have."
In her thought-provoking and lively lecture, Professor Fredriksen demonstrates that the question, "When does Christianity begin?" doesn't have a neat answer. Early Christianity grew out of Jewish soil, shaped by complex social, philosophical, and theological debates. Rather than a clear break, the process was gradual, messy, and unintentional—a series of evolving identities that only coalesced much later.
"Christianity begins by accident… through a mythologized reinterpretation of Jesus's own sense of self…"
Ultimately, Christianity's origins are best understood as part of a much broader tapestry of Jewish and Greco-Roman religious life, full of variety and negotiation—a story as much about continuous transformation as about separation.
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